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As a young girl, I turned to my notebook and sketchpad for solace. Writing and drawing soothed my soul and kept the demons at bay. They still do.
Whether sitting at my kitchen table in the Hollywood Hills, my rustic room at Club Med in Jalisco, the tawdry garret in Montreal, my gleaming office in the Palisades, small desk in the Purple Muffin on the Malibu cliffs, the mountain ranch, or my farm office, my writing and drawing have always been my raison d’être.
The farm office overlooks lawns and trees, squirrels and birds and one large peahen with an attitude